


To Rise In Waves

by CourierNinetyTwo



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night - All Media Types
Genre: Caster!Nero, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 02:32:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16399691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourierNinetyTwo/pseuds/CourierNinetyTwo
Summary: Nero survived the fall of her empire, but she has nowhere else to go.





	To Rise In Waves

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned by funblade! This is part of her AU where Nero is a Caster, and the Beast of Babylon is more literal than metaphorical.

Nero rose to the idle crash of waves, the distant scent of sex, and silken sheets wrapped around her body like a shroud.

The last two were not so strange, except she had been in a tavern last night, and by the look of the wooden walls around her subtly rocking with the tide, at some hour the tavern had become a ship. Sunlight poked through a few narrow gaps in the ceiling above, but beyond that, it was impossible to tell how much time had passed.

She stirred, intending to sit up and find her bearings, but the moment Nero moved on the bed, an arm slung around her hip and pulled her close. The warm weight of another body pressed against her back, strong but unfamiliar. 

"My crew will be just as hungover as we are," the owner of that body murmured against Nero's shoulder, "so there's no need to rush."

Nero bit her lip to hold in a laugh as a few more pieces of the previous evening fell together. She remembered being offered a bottle of some fiery brew by a captain with a prodigious black hat and a broad blue coat, both of which were in a crushed tangle at the foot of the bed now. Only a crimson sliver of her own dress was visible, its hem caught on the finial of a heavy wooden bedpost.

She turned over in the captain's embrace, finding bright blue eyes with a scar split right between them. "Are we out to sea, then?"

"I told you we were leaving port when I invited you on board." Teeth flashed in a smile before the other woman fished around with her free hand, finding a bottle of liquor under the sheets. Absent any more free fingers, she pried out the cork with a bite and spit that was unnecessarily crude.

Crude, yet charming. It wasn't hard for Nero to figure out why the Beast had been lured to this person, who radiated the power and confidence that it hungered for. With her empire long since fallen, the devil had to feed on scraps.

The captain paused with the mouth of the bottle halfway to her lips. "With that look you're giving me, I wonder how much you remember."

Not much, although Nero didn't have any trouble translating the soreness between her thighs, nor the teeth marks decorating the captain's throat and shoulders like a trail of rubies. She had bitten deep, enough to draw blood a few times.

"Drink and pleasure mostly," Nero answered out loud. "It's only polite to give a lady your name, you know."

That earned a laugh, and a knowing glint in the sea of the other woman's eyes. "Francis Drake. I prefer the latter. And you gave me your name, but it was very long. Nero Cl-"

"Nero is fine," she interrupted, forcing a smile. 

Her full name wasn't a safe thing to say out loud. She was meant to be long dead, and without the Beast's brutal magics, she would be. It must have been feeling particularly prideful, to reveal her identity to Drake after only a few rounds.

"I promise I didn't mean to keep you," Drake murmured, and must have misread the conflict on her face for reluctance, "but my crew had orders to sail at dawn, and we were occupied with each other almost to sunrise."

"I don't mind being kept, if you are who I think you are." Green eyes flickered around Drake's cabin again; even in the dim light, half the surfaces in the room were draped with gold, coins and jewelry from half a dozen nations--none of which were allies. "Which seems to be a pirate of some repute."

"Some?" Drake laughed again. It was a good-natured sound, warm and robust as a cask of whiskey. "Many would call me the Devil for the damage I've done."

A title they had in common, then. Nero had heard it often when cautioned about the madness in her blood. Perhaps the Beast had sensed a kindred spirit, clad in fame and finery. "You're a kind companion for such a destroyer."

Drake's shrug was a liquid roll of her shoulders before she gulped down half of what remained in her bottle. "There's no fun in destroying women. You're a treasure as you are."

The compliment, though casual, struck Nero like a lance. She was used to leering or worse, usually from those who took her stature to mean weakness, but this libidinous pirate was more gentle than half the so-called honorable kings she'd met.

"As soon as our coffers are full again, I can take you to any port you like," Drake offered, then did the same with the bottle. 

It only seemed polite, although Nero had to bite her tongue not to wince at the hint of saltwater in the aftertaste. "So where am I to be until then? I'm not much of a sailor."

She preferred the sand of the arena beneath her feet, but the only sand near here was on distant islands, their coasts constantly drawn and reshaped by the sea. There was no Rome to return to except in name, and it was not a place that would welcome her as anything but a blood-gorged phantom.

"Here, if you like." Calloused fingers secured the bottle again, and Drake drained it dry before casting the glass aside into a pile of stolen fabrics. "I don't have a second bed, but you're not obligated to pay passage, considering I stole you onto my ship."

Nero smiled to herself, imagining what 'passage' entailed, and considered whether or not she would pay it anyway. Such would keep the Beast happy, and if the languor coiling through her limbs was any indication, the rest of her would be as well. "I'd much prefer to be in your company instead of your crew's."

"They're a rugged lot, but they obey orders." Sitting up all the way, Drake stretched, and Nero glimpsed a few other scars twisting around well-earned muscle. The captain's body was hardened by the sea, only broken up by the softer swell of her breasts. "You won't be in danger from them if you're with me."

"That is good to know," Nero said softly.

"I should get dressed and make sure they're not steering us into trouble." Drake began to climb out of bed, only to be caught by a hand at her arm.

A flicker of crimson went through Nero's eyes, and she felt the Beast twisting through her, like the birth of a storm under calm waters. "But I've yet to tire of your kindness, Drake."

The lustful smile the captain gave in return proved to Nero that she'd hit her mark.

It was some hours later that Nero stood on the deck of the Golden Hind, watching the horizon stretch out forever along the sea. Perhaps being adrift here was for the best; there was only so much harm she could do without an anchor to the rest of the world.

She heard Drake before she saw her, then felt the other woman's palm press against the small of her back. "Enjoying the view, Nero?"

"More than anything," Nero whispered back.

Peace was such a fragile, fleeting thing. To have it here, if only for a moment, felt like enough.


End file.
